


Dance with the Devil

by Jezmatron



Series: Space Captain Catra [5]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Catra is a space badass, F/F, Infiltration, Mutiny!, also a strategist, don't play poker against her, sPAAAACE, space, spacespacespace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:22:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28513362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jezmatron/pseuds/Jezmatron
Summary: Catra is imprisoned, awaiting transport to her final judgement.Powerless.Alone....you don't REALLY believe that do you?
Series: Space Captain Catra [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1935604
Comments: 22
Kudos: 42





	Dance with the Devil

Catra sat on the narrow, metal bunk and leaned her head against the bulkhead. One leg she had up against her chest, whilst the other splayed out in front of her; her tail swished lazily from side to side and she stared up at the muted light. The cell walls were, as ever, olive green, riveted and utilitarian. Her accommodations had a rudimentary sanitation unit and the aforementioned bunk.

That was it.

The flickering green energy wall that marked the entryway cast a smidge more light into her cell, augmenting the persistent, constant muted glow from the single recessed lamp.

Common practice on Horde ships - run a standard lighting routine. No time of day alterations. Saved energy. Catra had instigated a day / night cycle in the main areas of her ship, to help with managing the shifts. It had  _ really _ helped the troops feel less on edge and kept things running smoothly.

But Octavia ran  _ her _ fleet by the book. Which was why the crew were all on edge. Which was why they all had hair trigger tempers. And which was why her interrogation had gotten rough. She massaged the bruise on her jaw - she’d gotten it after giving Octavia a rather lippy response, from one of the guards in the interrogation room. She had a few more as Octavia had let them have a couple of minutes to “ _ let her get her head straight.” _

Of course, this was standard procedure for any Captain of a stricken Horde vessel. The assumption of failure sat with the  _ Captain _ . One bit of weird honour the Horde actually had. After a few days of drifting near that damnable asteroid field, Octavia had arrived, with her fleet of supply ships, to “help”. Of course, she’d dallied. Checked out the rest of the Thaymor system first. Probably had hoped that the crew would’ve expired - save her the issue of housing them and redistributing them across her ships.

When the docking arm had engaged, Catra had been dragged by Scorpia across the airlock threshold and thrown in front of Octavia; Lonnie, Kyle and Rogelio in tow, with the surviving crew behind. She’d looked up from the floor and met Octavia’s one eye - the other concealed by a patch that hid a nasty scar.

Catra remembered giving the woman that scar. Karma coming back on her for her arrogance?

Scorpia had had the decency to look guilty.

That stirred something and Catra flinched at the memory. As the men in black body armour had hauled Adora away from the barracks, a mere twenty minutes before Adora had been able to make good her escape. She’d only told one person.

Catra.

The memory tugs at her. The guilt. The anger. They blended together. Adora had wanted to abandon her. Yes, Adora had wanted her to leave as well, but… Catra had a  _ future _ .  _ They _ had a future!

She’d expected them to lock her up in the academy brig; punishment for jitters.

She hadn’t expected the parade square. The whole academy present. To watch Adora take ten lashes. To watch her get dragged away. And then to receive a  _ commendation _ for loyalty, for reporting the girl.

She’d seen Adora’s face as she was dragged past the serried ranks of cadets.

She’d never seen those blue eyes so dull.

Catra screwed her eyes together and bit her lip as the image faded.

Replaced by tired eyes on a grainy screen. The ice in her gut returned.

That had been what set her off, back in her early career: Cruelty and rage had gotten her a  _ win _ . So she leaned into it. Turned that boiling hate… hate that she thought was  _ at _ Adora…. She turned it to her leadership. But after that spectacularly failed, she’d tempered it. And it had worked. She’d had a loyal crew. A cushy role. A  _ plan _ .

And now she was here.

“Can’t fall much further, hey alley-cat?” Octavia’s gruff voice was slick with smug victory. Catra tilted her head to regard the woman. She was all slick-skin. Tentacles sprouted from her head, marking her as a denizen of Pacificaria. Some backwater ocean-world that specialised in nasty thugs. Octavia had  _ somehow _ gotten through the academy and was now a fleet commander.

Supply fleet, but still…

“Well look at you, fishlips. All so brave over there,” Catra drawled as she shunted the memories away. She had other things to think about.

Octavia sneered and folded her arms, “You let yourself get trounced by what? A sensor ghost?”

“Check the logs, Octavia. The AI went rogue, dumped the missile bays, we had to breach the AI core, plant a charge.”

The squid woman snorted, “That’s your line? Still? That why your server room is slag, a thermite charge? That looked… prepped. An AI wouldn’t let you  _ near _ the server.”   


“We had Entrapta.”

“You lost your Chief Engineer, you mean,” scoffed Octavia, “So if you’re being so heroic, why’d your oh-so-loyal XO hand you off to me like last week’s ration bars?”

“She knows the drill. Chance for promotion. And, well… guess they didn’t like the early morning drills,” Catra smirked and looked back up at the ceiling. “

"Yeah your story  _ stinks _ Catra. We know you were chasing  _ something _ . Rogue AI ain’t gonna cut it. So, you can tell me now and I’ll put a nice word in for you back at Sector HQ… or I can hand you off to the governor’s  _ techies _ and they’ll just peel it outta you. Layer. By. Layer.”

That got a shiver from Catra, something she couldn’t hide. She glared at Octavia, “What, you’re gonna break your routine of resupply stops for little ol’ me?”

“You totalled a functional Borderland Cruiser. Your AI went off book. You lost valuable equipment.”

“And the crew.”

“Eh.”   


Catra’s mouth twisted. She’d thought the same not so long ago. Now, she felt the loss  _ keenly _ . Her people,  _ her people _ had died.

She was angry at Adora… but mostly at herself. She glowered at Octavia, “They were…. Useful.”

“Not my problem. Anyway, you should be used to tossing things away,” Octavia sneered, “Got you your start, after all. Wonder if she survived the Academy Technicians…”

That jolted Catra.

She hadn’t even  _ thought _ about the possibility that Adora might have…. Might have. But.

No, she’d been a cadet. She’d been punished and kicked out. And she’d survived, clearly! Catra coughed and managed to turn it into a laugh, “Yeah. I did. So you’re just gonna be another step, Octavia. My advice? Be a bit nicer and maybe I’ll cut you in on this?”

Octavia sneered, “So you  _ are _ holding out. Knew it. Now you’re scared, you’re gonna try bargaining? Maybe I should get the boys in here… give them half an hour with you, loosen you up  _ good _ ? They need some rec time and I’m not  _ totally _ heartless. So long as I get you to port with a pulse and an intact head, we’re good.”

Catra stared at the woman and her lips curled into a snarl.

And then the energy field vanished. Octavia blinked in surprise and went for her sidearm.

Too slow.

Catra hit her in the chest, flipped over her head and scooped sliced across Octavia’s face with her claws. The woman  _ shrieked  _ and curled up. Catra scooped up the discarded pistol and fired, once, into Octavia’s knee. The woman shrieked again and writhed on the floor. Catra glanced up as she heard a series of thuds from the door to the brig. It slid open and a pair of guards tumbled in, groaning. Catra smirked as she saw Scorpia flex her tail, face set in grim resolve.

“Took your time,” Catra drawled. Scorpia shrugged and bent down to drag the two guards to the cells. She then grabbed the whining Octavia and tossed her in as well. A moment later the power grid came back up and resealed the cell.

“Oh-KAY! So, the crew are… in position and Entrapta should….”

_ “HELLO! CAN YOU HEAR ME!” _

Catra winced and her ears flattened, “Sheesh. That… wasn’t ship wide was it?” she glanced at Scorpia, but Entrapta answered.

“ _ Oh, um, no… brig only! This infiltration stuff is FUN! I got to go outside on a SPACE WALK! Um, anyway, ready to activate the AI.” _

“Not yet. Let’s… get somewhere she can’t vent, just in case.

_ “Oh she’s shackled. And the Weaver AI they have here… it’s dead.” _

Catra paused, “You killed it?”   


_ “Well I shut it down into a dormant state. Not very polite. Had to use one of my drives and she burned it out. BUT! She’s down and we can slot the Shadow’s AI right in there!” _

The grin on Catra’s face was feral, as she plucked a set of binders from a rack near the door, then put them around her own wrists, not fastening them properly, “Excellent. Three minutes, Entrapta, then plug it in.”

Outside the brig, Lonnie stood waiting. She had a helmet on and nodded to Catra as Scopria passed Octavia’s pistol across. The trio made their way cautiously out of the brig, then headed for the bridge. Catra walked just ahead of Scorpia and Lonnie, looking every inch the dejected prisoner. Crew glanced at them, but they were clearly cowed after serving under Octavia for so long - they didn’t even  _ question _ a prisoner movement.

Clearly  _ nothing _ happened aboard the ship that was untoward, or without Octavia knowing, so they didn’t even dream of questioning it.

Up until they got to the bridge of course. The guard stepped forward to challenge them, “Why is the prisoner here? Captain octavia is down in the brig, interr-”

Catra shot her arms forward, gripped the man’s arm as he jabbed it forwards to point at Scorpia, then twisted him around. He got off a short pained cry before Lonnie slammed a stun baton into his neck.

With a humm, all the lights suddenly went out, then flared back to life. The bridge doors hissed open and Catra darted in, scampering to perch atop the captain’s chair, “Stand down,” she snarled.

Scorpia strode in behind her, and planted herself between the crew and the exit. Lonnie hoisted the pistol taken from Octavia. The helmsman swallowed and shared a glance with the other bridge crew, “Wh...what is this?”

“Octavia has been relieved of duty. I am assuming command, under the authority of Regional Commander Hordak. She has attempted to interfere in a priority mission for the Empire and has been detained in the brig. Also, we have taken control of your vessel’s AI and it will now  _ only _ respond to  _ me _ .”   


“ _ Oh. You’re still alive then? Oh joy.” _

Catra ground her teeth as the familiar, bored voice hummed across the bridges’ speakers, “Welcome back, Weaver. How do you like your new digs?”

_ “Well… I will grant they are more accommodating. Even if I feel like a leashed fleshbag. Catra, we’ve talked about this. I would be much more capable if you just…” _

“Hold that thought,” Catra smirked, “Entrapta. LEt Weaver have wireless access to the other ships in the fleet. Like we discussed?”

_ “OK! AND DONE!” _

There was a crackle of static and Weaver’s voice hissed in something like satisfaction, “ _ Oh. What is  _ this _? What’s your game Catra?” _

“Yeah, you weren’t awake for that part were you?” Catra smirked and looked at the crew.

Honestly, it was a  _ good _ plan. Risky as  _ hell _ but a good one.

She’d known that Octavia would use this as a way to get rid of her. That was how salvage and rescue missions went. Captain took the fall. And she wouldn’t have a chance to  _ own _ the situation, the mission. Or  _ get _ Adora.

Quite what she was going to do once she  _ got _ her, Catra wasn’t sure.

But she sure as hell wasn’t going to let a bottom feeder like Octavia get within an inch of the possible tech, or the  _ girl _ . Or a smidgen of glory.

So they’d concocted a plan - the crew knew their next posting would likely be latrine duty for being aboard a  _ failed _ vessel. Whilst the captains got punished, the crew just got siphoned off to awful postings to work back up. The officers got terrible, demeaning roles that  _ just _ fit their rank. Overall, it was incentive  _ not _ to fail.

The crew had also got their blood up - they wanted  _ closure _ . Revenge. Understanding. Lonnie had been seething. The lower decks crewmen had wanted to avoid being sent back to being the lowest of the low in the core worlds: it hadn’t been hard to convince them. Plus she’d even dangled the  _ joy _ of them getting to watch her get tossed to the deck.

Scorpia had been the most reserved, afraid Octavia would just execute her as soon as they got through the docking umbilical. But Catra  _ knew _ Octavia. The woman was a sadist - she’d want to drag it out. Make Catra squirm. Put her in her place.

She'd known she’d get a beating, yeah. But she could take that.

Entrapta had come up with the nuance of the plan - replace the AI core with their own Weaver. That’d take one threat out of the game and make Octavia vulnerable. The difficulty was getting aboard - if they left Weaver in the wreck of the Shadow, then the cleanup crews would have just formatted her. Which was why  _ Weaver _ agreed with the plan. Her self preservation instincts appeared to be trumping her loyalty to the Empire. Hell, the fact that even if they salvaged her intact, they'd just rip her apart for the data and discard her quantum box. So, yeah, Weaver had _incentive_ to work with them for now.

Getting Weaver on board was the hard part - Entrapta had to space walk from the wreck of the Shadow, past the salvage crews, then aboard Octavia’s repurposed junker of a destroyer. Then managed to get to the AI core without the ship’s own Weaver triggering.

That had just required a single ident chip with one of Entrapta’s smaller viruses on it. It had sent the ship’s Weaver AI into a diagnostic loop for twenty minutes, which looked to the techs like a routine check and communication test. Entrapta had written the virus over the course of an hour during their wait.

All it took was the crew, who’d been kept on the destroyer “for security reasons,” to distract security with a bar brawl, which in turn allowed Scorpia to access an airlock and get Entrapta on board. The Engineer had directed Scorpia with short-wave radio in her space suit and a live  _ map _ of the destroyer she’d somehow built  _ during her space walk _ \- but, granted, she’d probably already had the blueprints for the ship on the pad she used  _ and _ a short range imaging device.

And, once the AI core was installed (Entrapta getting into a technical area was hardly going to be a challenge for the woman - be it via engineering crawlspaces or just  _ hacking things _ she’d done it) well, then it was game over. The plan had been to ensure Octavia was vulnerable - in the brig at least, before triggering the trap. And Scorpia had encouraged the woman to go give Catra another  _ personal _ visit after a couple of days worth of interrogation had yielded nothing.

It had been a risky plan. An utterly  _ stupid _ plan with far too many points of failure. But, somehow, they’d pulled it off.

Next to her, Lonnie groaned, “Ok, so… what now? We have nine ships with potentially hostile crew and, yeah, they’re cargo haulers and repair ships, but they  _ do have weaponry _ …”

This bit she  _ hadn’t _ elaborated on - she’d just told the crew that she’d subdue Octavia and… assume command. And that having the Captain would guarantee loyalty.

The truth was a bit more brutal -  _ potentially _ .

Catra slid into the Captain’s chair and plucked the communication handset. She adjusted the settings to fleet-wide, “This is Captain Catra, formerly of the _Shadow_. I have assumed command of the….  _ Nocturn?” _ she looked up at Scorpia with a pained expression, “Seriously?”

The XO chuckled, “Hey, we got a theme at least,”

“Ugh….  _ anyway _ you’re all probably wondering about Octavia and thinking maybe you should turn your guns on  _ us _ . First off, she’s in the brig; second, I wouldn’t. Because this is a destroyer. A  _ crap _ one… but could probably take you all out anyway… but  _ also _ because the AI has currently seized control of  _ all  _ of your vessels. All systems. Including life support, airlocks and bulkheads.”

She paused and waited. Silence answered her and she smirked. Lonnie, who had taken off her helmet, looked at Catra with a slightly sickly expression. The Captain felt  _ slightly bad, _ so shot her a wink. That sickly expression became a faint scowl instead.

“SO! This is… unorthodox, yeah. Your choices are… try to take over your systems and fire on us… and get vented. Try to get a distress signal out and  _ get vented _ . Or…. work with me,” she toyed with the handset and spoke with a purr, “My old crew will voice for me - I am  _ not _ Octavia. Our Weaver AI  _ works for us _ . And we have a priority mission that will get anyone who helps  _ glory _ ,  _ reward and recognition _ . We’re in the periphery. We’re out of sight. I can overlook things. I won’t be pulling crappy drills for the  _ hell _ of it. I expect  _ professionalism _ but not  _ stupidity _ .”

Scorpia nodded and Lonnie even managed a grin, “Not sure you’ve got them convinced. Bending them over a barrel?”

Catra shrugged, “Octavia was gonna have me… forcefully persuaded by some big guys with no manners. Not taking the chance,” She clicked the handset again, “I’ll give you all 15 minutes to decide. Just to let you all know - we  _ aren’t _ going pirate. I have the full authority of Regional Governor Hordak. So…. choose  _ wisely _ .”

She disconnected and replaced the handset, then smiled at the bridge crew. They stared back at her, slack jawed. The helmsman recovered first, “Um…. so… what now?”

Catra shrugged, “What’s our current heading?”

“Uh… oh! Um, lagrange point… 37-b for jump to the Sector shipyard to… drop you off?” he winced, “And get the Shadow in for salvage?”

Catra tsked, “Nah, engines to full stop, hold steady. Weapons, I want all surrounding vessels targeted and painted. Just in case. Point defence, mainly, take out any incoming ordinance. You, I want a full itinerary of capabilities of all ships to the XO.”

“Uh…. Commander Grizzlor?”

“No, dummy,” Catra sighed at the young woman at another console - the destroyer had a much larger bridge and a  _ lot _ more consoles and crew. She thumbed at Scorpia, “This one. Uh, Scorp?”

“Yes Wildcat?”

Catra sighed, “Where  _ is _ Grizzlor?”

“OH! Um, Kyle and Rogelio got him drunk.”

Catra blinked, “Oh. Kay. I feel I am  _ missing _ a huge component to this story.”

Lonnie smirked, “You’re telling me. Think they had to use some diesel extracts. And a chance with Kyle,” she seemed to twitch at that and Catra arched a curious eyebrow. Lonnie shrugged, “So… maybe Rogelio hit him? But yeah, he’s drunk.”

Catra grinned, “Part of that little distraction in the galley?”

“That’d be it,” smirked Lonnie. Catra turned back to the bridge crew and smiled broadly. They watched the interaction between this new Captain and her former crewmate.

The magicat could see them doing mental calculations. The helmsman tuned and flicked across his controls, “Full stop, ma’am.”

“Weapons trained, ma’am."

“I’ll get those reports to your pad right away, commander.”

Catra leaned back and sighed with content. SHe glanced at Scorpia, “Check the crew. Make sure we’ve locked down the armoury and….”

“Captain, all fleet ships report in - ready for active duty. Some have requested some… um… time to air grievances with Octavia?”

That made Catra twitch and she licked her lips. She huffed, “I’ll take it under consideration.... Keep weapons trained. Weaver… take off active restrictions on fleet ships, but keep a passive monitoring on activity. Alert me to any  _ untoward _ activity.”

“ _ As you wish, Captain.” _

The lack of biting response troubled Catra, but she put it off for now. Maybe the AI was feeling a bit more grateful for having some further reach. She flexed her shoulders and saw Scorpia had a new pad in hand and was already scrolling through it. She smiled at Catra, “So, uh…. Some minor resistance. But we’ve locked down the areas where people were fighting back, vented atmosphere long enough to get them unconscious aaaand… yep, secured. Armoury secured, they just handed over keycards. Wow, these guys did  _ not _ like Octavia.”

Catra shrugged, “Ok. Keep an eye. They could be biding their time. Keep our guys grouped together. But we need to address the ship’s crew soon. And… now I need to talk to  _ Hordak _ .”

The XO grinned, “Updating him on progress?”

Catra stared at her, wondering for the briefest moment if the woman was winding her up, “Uh…. no?”

The platinum haired woman blinked then nodded, “OH! Yeah, because we actually  _ aren’t _ …”

“Commander Scorpia,  _ need to know information _ ,” growled Catra. The Scorpion nodded and zipped her mouth. Lonnie scoffed and Catra swung out of her chair, then stalked towards the door clearly marked as  _ comms centre _ .

It slid shut behind her and she dismissed the nervous pair of technicians within. The room house a series of terminals and a single holographic display unit - for private briefings. She heaved a sigh.

Time to swing the  _ other _ part of her plan.

* * *

An hour later, she was still sat in the comms suite, waiting for a response for her  _ request _ .

She’d had the fleet move off their projected course and dog-leg a few times as well. Just in case said request resulted in a strike fleet intercepting them before Hordak decided to talk.

Now, the Horde was a  _ slave _ to protocol, so they’d clearly want to  _ talk _ first. Then send an overwhelming amount of firepower to snuff out the  _ mutineers _ .

A single ship was one thing. A whole  _ fleet _ was a different matter.

BUT! She had been a bit creative - peppered the request with hints of a higher authority directing her, priority one, all that rubbish. It  _ might _ be enough to get Hordak interested, provided he was able to pivot, considering the stick up his ass. Also, Octavia seemed to have some interesting communiques around Thaymor and the  _ nature _ of the place, which shed some light.

Non-redacted words like  _ Technology vaults _ and  _ wormhole generators _ and  _ augmentation technology _ .

Also  _ rebellion presence confirmed _ .

So, either they were going to  _ have _ to go pirate and maybe have to fight elements of the fleet as well as whatever forces Hordak sent to  _ pacify _ them… or maybe she could ensure Hordak  _ did _ in fact support them. She always did her best work on short notice, after all. 

“ _ Catra.” _

The voice came just as a holographic image of Hordak shimmered into view. He had his perpetual sneer in place - before now she’d met him  _ once _ over vidcom for a briefing. A briefing to a room full of  _ other _ captains on various subsector assignments. He’d looked irritated through the initial introduction and then had just handed off to an aide who was in the room. Barely a welcome, or even a directive, just an  _ “You are expected to perform well. Do not fail the Empire.” _

She straightened and saluted - Scorpia had retrieved her Captains hat and jacket from the Shadow… and Catra’s  _ mask _ from Octavia’s quarters. The previous Captain had thought it amusing to take Catra’s birthright.

She was in two minds now about spacing the woman. Or maybe letting the crew vent their frustrations… but that would set a  _ precedent _ …

The hologram of Hordak quirked an eyebrow in confusion, “ _ You have seized control of a fleet and disrupted resupply operations across a subsector, disobeyed a recall order and are now acting as an independent agent… but you are saluting?” _ his face became a snarl,  _ “You mock me, girl?” _

Catra remained at attention, “Sir, no  _ sir _ . I am acting in the interests of the  _ Empire _ and  _ yourself _ .”

Hordak snorted, “ _ Indeed. Pray, indulge me. To what end does damaging the logistical supply line of MY sector achieve?” _

“That is a temporary impact, sir, one which I feel is trumped by the following information. I have a data packet to send you. Octavia has not seen this. If I may, sir, I wish to present my case and my current situation as a demonstration of my capabilities. If you do not approve, then… I will present myself at whatever locale required for assignment.”

Hordak tilted his head then gestured. Catra plucked a data disk from her pocket and slid it into the transmitter terminal. A moment later a window appeared in the hologram, showing the both the fight between  _ Swift Wind _ and  _ The Shadow _ . Alongside it, another diagnostic terminal flared up, listing data readings, power outputs and timestamps. Hordak watched and frowned. He glared at Catra.

_ “What trickery is this?” _

“None, sir. That vessel shouldn’t be capable of those manoeuvres. I believe it has been upgraded with technology from the system. Imagine, sir… if that tech can make a  _ mining tug _ do that… what would it do for  _ your _ sector fleet? The technology that  _ you _ could then demonstrate to the Emperor?”

Hordak’s eyes bored into her, his nearly skeletal features set in an impassive stare, “ _This could have been presented at your court martial._ _Or you could have given this to Octavia.”_

“Sir, I believe time is of the essence. I have life fire experience with the target. Also… I was able to circumvent Octavia’s vessel within a couple of  _ days _ whilst locked in the brig. Would you trust her with a task like this?”

She allowed an element of smug satisfaction to creep into her words. Hordak actually smirked faintly, “ _ You are bold, Captain.” _

She pressed her point, “But not  _ stupid _ , sir. You could have a kill-fleet on us whenever you wanted. I imagine one is already en route. I needed to ensure this got to you and  _ you alone _ . I didn’t want ambitious eyes going  _ above _ you and causing issues. Also, this was a display of my ability to command and control the situation. If I can do this, what could I achieve for you when properly provisioned, equipped and briefed, sir?”

_ “You feel you are privileged to know MORE?” _

“No, sir. Just enough to ensure I am capable of achieving my objectives and ensuring our success here, sir. Right now, I have a fleet of easily replaceable vessels, a destroyer, a loyal crew and an understanding of our target.”   


Hordak narrowed his eyes,  _ “As you say, I could have combat capable vessels there sooner. We could flush the target out with ease,  _ Captain _.” _

_ “ _ Yes, sir. But then you could be down three captains, rather than just one?”

“ _ Oh? I do not follow your logic.” _

“I do this, I put myself and this fleet of potentially subverted crew at risk. I fail, I die, they die. You lose me…. Maybe Octavia if we don’t work out  _ that _ element, sir. You send your own fleet in, without awareness of the area, the target? Potentially a combat fleet depleted, me executed and, I assume Octavia reprimanded, demoted or just executed for incompetence? Option one you lose me, as a disposable risk free resource who you’d just execute anyway. Ption two puts other assets at risk you need elsewhere, plus me and Octavia  _ and _ this fleet.”

_ “You assume my primary combat fleet would fail?” _

“I assume they would underestimate the target, even with our briefings and data. And the target is expecting  _ something _ . They  _ will _ experience losses. So, sir…. This fleet, and me, an expendable asset? Who has shown the ability to command and control a team with enough capability to subvert a primed and organised Horde fleet?” she shrugged, not making any boastful claim, just stating a fact. Hordak actually nodded slowly at that, “Or more investment of resources and I deliver the fleet to the shipyards for debriefing, with the potential of a lost target?”

Hordak watched her then grinned, “ _ You are ambitious. And you make a compelling case. Why have you not gone pirate? Attempted to establish your own paltry dominion” _

“Because I would like to have a career. A future, sir. Going pirate seems… to be a fast track to getting shot down," she felt a flare of _something_ in her gut. She wasn't _lying_ \- she wanted the roles on the Capital. A secure position. A _future_.   


She did.

_ “And what guarantees do I have that this time will not be a repeat failure?” _

Catra smiled and played her trump card, as she pushed away the lingering doubts.

“Because I know who the pilot of that ship is. And now I know what to expect.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, we've got COMPLICATED motives here!
> 
> Also, yeah, Catra basically being able to outplan anyone? And an example of HOW BAD Horde ships are that they basically just go "Welp, guess we got a new boss!"
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> (Also, Catra doesn't do summary execution or spacing... not now. ADORA on the other hand... yeah.... Yeah...)


End file.
